


Unexpected

by Mythdefied



Category: Bleach
Genre: Crack, GrimmIchi - Freeform, Ignoring Canon, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythdefied/pseuds/Mythdefied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first hint Grimmjow got that something had gone wrong in his perfect world was Kurosaki Ichigo’s fist slamming into his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

The first hint Grimmjow got that something had gone wrong in his perfect world was Kurosaki Ichigo’s fist slamming into his face. Granted, violence was still one of their main means of communication, but these days they usually led up to it with some small talk and a few fond taunts coupled with creative insults. Being greeted by having his nose broken wasn’t something Grimmjow was used to anymore.

He fell off the throne with a grunt of surprise, only to have it turn into one of pain as Ichigo’s foot caught him in the chest, cracking a few ribs, if not breaking a couple. Managing to roll out of the way of another kick, Grimmjow spat out blood and looked up at Ichigo with a mix of confusion and growing anger.

“The _fuck_ is your problem?” he demanded.

The look in Ichigo’s eyes, the absolute fury, was something Grimmjow hadn’t seen since after the war ended, since Grimmjow became king of Hueco Mundo, taking over what was left of Las Noches. Well, it was more like a self-declared position, seeing as how he was the only Espada left after the war and there was nothing strong enough in Hueco Mundo to refute his claim. And not that it actually meant anything, other than getting to lounge around in Aizen’s throne and take out the odd hollow who got ideas. Actually, it was kind of boring. Which was why Grimmjow looked forward to Ichigo’s visits.

After the war, Ichigo was appointed the official representative of Soul Society to Hueco Mundo; it was his job to “keep up relations” with the new king. Whatever that was supposed to mean. At first it’d meant fighting until they were both too cut up to stand, but then they’d started to actually talk before fighting. Then one day they’d both realized that the fighting was a substitute for something else. These days they still fought, but it was pretty much foreplay and they never took it far enough to actually cause damage anymore. Real damage would stop them from the part they both loved even more.

They were keeping up relations all right; they fucked each other into the floor. Or rather, Grimmjow fucked _Ichigo_ into the floor. Or the wall. Or the table. Or the throne. Anywhere he could, really, and Ichigo _demanded_ it. It was always more and deeper and harder with him and Grimmjow was perfectly happy to give it too him. He fucked Ichigo until that sweet, tight ass of his was red and raw and Grimmjow’s dick was bruised and felt damn near ready to fall off. They kept it up for days whenever Ichigo visited, barely taking any time out for pointless things like eating or sleeping. By the time Ichigo left, he nearly had to crawl through the Senkaimon, cursing himself and Grimmjow the entire way; Grimmjow himself was limping and ready to collapse. It worked for them and up until today they’d never had any problems.

Now Ichigo was standing over him wearing a killing expression that frankly, was turning Grimmjow the fuck _on_. But he kind of doubted that he’d get to do anything about it, not with Zangetsu drawn and held white-knuckled at Ichigo’s side.

“What’s my _problem_?” Ichigo demanded, his face reddening as the reiatsu he exuded began to do what felt like a slow boil.

“Yeah!” Grimmjow pushed himself up, wiping blood away from his face. “You don’t show up for months and when you do, you pull this shit! So what the hell is going through that pea-sized thing you call a brain?” He narrowed his eyes as he stared up at Ichigo. There was something...different.... “Hey, were you stuffing your face all this time? Because you’re out of shape. Looking kind of chunky there.” He sneered, thinking the taunt might get him one in return, maybe prod Ichigo into spilling whatever was going on.

What he didn’t expect was the way Ichigo’s eyes widened, something like...horror crossing his face ever so briefly. Then his eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back from his teeth in an expression of incredible viciousness.

“ _Bankai_!”

“Shit!” Grimmjow was up and yanking out Pantera as Ichigo’s reiatsu exploded around them, sending the throne flying off the dais.

“Grind, Pantera!” he cried out - and just managed to throw himself to the side as Tensa Zangetsu came slicing down where he’d stood just a second before.

It was the kind of fight Grimmjow hadn’t had in years. The kind where there was actual killing intent, where blows weren’t pulled and reiatsu was pushed up to the maximum, where Ichigo went all out from bankai to vizard to full hollow form. And as bored as he sometimes was, Grimmjow could honestly say he hadn’t missed this one bit.

Maybe it made him a fucking pussy, but he _liked_ Ichigo now. More than liked. And it wasn’t just that he enjoyed pounding into that beautiful ass, making Ichigo moan and cry out and beg like a bitch; it was the way they just understood each other. The way they could talk for hours, or even not talk at all and say just as much. Even the way they held each other - it was _not_ cuddling because Grimmjow was _not_ that much of a sissy - and fit each other so well, awake or asleep. It was far more than just like, so far beyond it that only one word described it and no _way_ was Grimmjow ever saying it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. Feel it so much it hurt not to have Ichigo with him. And it damn sure hurt now, when it looked like Ichigo might actually be trying to kill him.

Grimmjow didn’t attack, didn’t do more than defend himself, knocking aside Tensa Zangetsu, pushing Ichigo back, taking every cut and slash that he couldn’t avoid with nothing more than an irritated grunt.

The ceiling was caved in near the back of the room, various places along the wall had been reduced to rubble and the floor had countless deep, wide gashes in it before Grimmjow finally got hold of one of the massive horns on Hollow Ichigo’s head and snapped it off, flinging Ichigo against the nearest wall in the process.

Almost immediately Ichigo began reverting back to his shinigami form, long hair receding back to its normal length, the hollow shell itself hardening and cracking and falling away until it was just Ichigo laying there, coughing on dust and clutching at his ribs.

Grimmjow let his release form fade away, tossing aside the broken horn piece and sheathing Pantera. If Ichigo wasn’t getting up yet then it was over.

“You didn’t throw a cero. That mean you don’t really want me dead?” He snapped out the question, anger simmering behind his words.

Ichigo coughed once, spit out a mouthful of blood. “You goddamned, shitsucking, son of a flea bitten....” It went on and on and got creative to the point that Grimmjow was reluctantly impressed. Ichigo had a mouth on him, but he didn’t usually go on at length.

By the time Ichigo finally wound down, Grimmjow was taking mental notes and wishing he had something to write with. It was some long minutes later and his wounds had stopped bleeding; Ichigo’s had already closed up.

“You gonna tell me what this is all about now, or you want to go another round?” Grimmjow asked, resting his hand on Pantera’s hilt. He really didn’t want to do this again, but he would if that would get Ichigo talking.

Instead of answering, Ichigo climbed to his feet. He didn’t bother dusting off his shihakusho, just sent Grimmjow a deathly glare before using shunpo to vanish.

“The hell?” Grimmjow stood in the empty room a moment, unable to believe that Ichigo had just _left_. After all this? Just...what the hell? Snarling, he kicked at a piece of rubble, sending the stone flying into the opposite wall where it embedded itself - and narrowly missed Ichigo who ducked and cursed as he skidded to a halt.

“Watch it, asshole!” Ichigo snapped.

“Fuck you!” Grimmjow snapped right back.

Ichigo let out a bitter, sharp laugh. “Yeah, not happening.”

“Huh?” Grimmjow wasn’t sure he’d understood that right. Ichigo never said no, never even joked about it. He was just as hungry for it as Grimmjow; they suited each other perfectly that way.

“After this? I don’t think so.” Ichigo held up by its handle what appeared to be a large hand woven basket. There was some sort of white material inside of it, the ends of it draped out over the sides of the basket, but other than that, Grimmjow didn’t know what to make of it.

“It’s bad enough the whole damn Seireitei knows we’re fucking,” Ichigo said, striding towards Grimmjow, “that they know _you’re_ fucking _me_ -”

“What, you _told_ them?” He’d never credited Ichigo with much in the way of brains, but this was stupid even for him!

“ _No_ , you idiot! I didn’t _have_ to!” Stopping in front of Grimmjow, Ichigo shoved the basket at him. “It was kind of obvious after this!” he shouted.

This being...? Grimmjow looked down into the basket he was now holding - and nearly dropped it.

“Careful!” Ichigo caught it as it slipped from Grimmjow’s hands, then shoved it right back at him.

This time Grimmjow’s hands locked on it, more out of shock and reflex than anything else.

There were three of...whatever they were. Some sort of ridiculously small mix between human and cat, naked save for white cloths wrapped up around their tiny hips; human bodies with blue hair, teal cat ears, thin blue tails, and little blue paws in place of hands and feet. And they were looking up at him with Ichigo’s eyes.

Grimmjow opened his mouth, then closed it when he couldn’t find words.

“I’m out of shape, huh?” Ichigo’s tone was scathing. “Well _you_ try fighting when _you’re_ knocked up! It wasn’t a fucking picnic! Being laughed at for months, dodging those psychos from the twelfth, getting sick day and night, packing on the weight, fucking _mood swings_ , and then Unohana had to _cut_ them out! This is all your fucking fault!”

“Uh...what?” Grimmjow couldn’t look away from the three babies-kittens? “But...how?”

“No one’s figured it out yet, but it’s still all your fault! And you’re gonna look after them for a while.” Ichigo stepped away and Grimmjow’s head snapped up.

“What-no! You’re not just dumping these things on me!”

“You’re their father; take some responsibility.” Ichigo crossed his arms, leveling a glare at Grimmjow. “And it’s not like its permanent. I’ll come back for them when I’ve got stuff sorted out back home and at Soul Society.”

“But...what the hell am I supposed to do with these things around _here_?” Grimmjow demanded.

“I don’t know, teach them to hunt hollows or something. They’re already weaned - thank Kami,” Ichigo muttered that under his breath, a visible shudder moving through him, “so just feed them whatever. Look, just keep them out of trouble and get to know them. I got shit to deal with before it’s safe to take them back.”

“Safe?” Grimmjow frowned.

“Yeah.” Ichigo sighed, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. “That freak Kurotsuchi, keeps saying bullshit about tests and samples and dissection.”

Grimmjow felt his lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl. He didn’t do it willingly, any more than the way he pulled the basket closer to him. It was some sort of instinct, the same one that reared up inside him saying that whatever the hell this things were, however they came to be, they were _his_ , and he’d protect them. It was probably those damn feline instincts he’d never quite been able to shake off, but it didn’t matter. His reaction got a nod of approval from Ichigo and that said good things about the future of their relationship. Maybe Ichigo would get over this and things could go back to normal.

One of the kitten things mewed.

Okay, maybe not entirely normal. But they could still have sex, right?

“Oi, Shinigami!” Grimmjow called out to Ichigo’s retreating back. “We gonna fuck later or what?”

The cero was aimed well over his head, but Grimmjow ducked down anyway, automatically moving to shield the basket with his body. When he looked up again, Ichigo was gone.

“Well, fuck.” He sighed as he sat down, shoving debris out of the way so he could set the basket in front of him.

He’d seen more weird shit since shinigami came to Hueco Mundo, but this was right there at the top of the list.

“So what am I supposed to do with you brats?” He looked down at the three...kids? Yeah, that was as good as anything else. If he called them spawn, Ichigo would probably go bankai on his ass again.

Two of the three were on their hands-no-paws and knees now, crawling around the wide basket while the third lay there, staring up at Grimmjow. Then it smiled, revealing a set of very sharp, very cat-like little teeth.

“At least you got my smile,” he said with a smirk. 

Something made a crinkling sound when one of the kids brushed up against the far side of the basket. Pulling the material aside, Grimmjow found a brown bag shoved down the side. Pulling it free, he dumped out the contents on the ground. A plastic see-through bag with what looked to be damp cloths inside, a container of some sort of powder, and a note pinned to the top of a pile of dry cloths.

Frowning in confusion, Grimmjow ripped the note off. It was written in Ichigo’s usual rushed, sloppy hand, short and as rude as always.

“ _Figure it out, dumbass._ ”

Grimmjow’s frown deepened. He couldn’t underst-

At that moment, a truly foul smell struck him. Attention going immediately to the basket’s occupants, he started down at them in dawning horror as the smell grew. One of them began to make little mewling cries of discomfort.

“Ichigo! Get the fuck back here, _now_!”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this somewhere in 2009 and had every intention of posting it for the next April Fools day (because mpreg for me is nothing but a joke), but I was just never happy enough with it. There's something about the whole thing that doesn't sit well with me, various ways lines come together, etc., but I'm not in the fandom anymore so I'm not all that interested in tweaking it any further.


End file.
